


How much air will I need to breathe (when your tide rushes over me)

by BeepBeepBitch



Series: Twined in Red [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Writing a bunch of stydia fics because im still pissed over season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 00:58:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2291108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeepBeepBitch/pseuds/BeepBeepBitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three things cannot long be hidden; The sun, the moon, the truth. In this case, Lydia tries her best to hide the truth anyways.</p>
<p>Or</p>
<p>Stiles and Lydia share their second kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How much air will I need to breathe (when your tide rushes over me)

**Author's Note:**

> Basically my head canon of what their next kiss will be like- (with some made up shit in the background.) because there will be more.

 

Stiles and Lydia were both bent over a file in the boys room, attempting to piece together the puzzle. In the latest of Beacon Hills' supernatural news, bodies have been showing up by the creek. All men, mostly late teens early twenties, with no connection whatsoever. At first it looked like any other murder spree led by some completely normal, average, every day psychopath. However with claw marks as deep as three inches scarring the bodies, it was obvious this was now the packs problem.

Despite all of this, Lydia felt like she had more worrying matters on her mind. Of course, finding it hard to be in the same room as Stiles proved to be something worrisome-she couldn't think properly, barely could speak properly... _No_ , she denied it. Thats all she ever did since after Jackson left. Deny, deny, deny. Thats what Aiden was for, a distraction. Parrish? Distraction. Though he was a nice guy, and certainly easy on the eyes, Lydia felt nothing there. Not like with Stiles.

_Stop_.

More denial.

It had nothing to do with social standards-she has certainly dropped greatly in that scale, being dubbed crazy a while ago by most of the school. Heads turned however, seeing the pair suddenly constantly together. People couldn't help but notice the way the (seemingly always) paranoid queen bee would rush down the halls with the virginal hyperactive spaz in tow. Few even heard the freckly boy call her 'Lyds' time to time.  Rumour has it they hooked up in the locker room, after a sophomore witnessed them walk out flustered and hurried. The boys cheeks were red and his eyes lit up, even if something else had been pestering at his mind. The girls blue dress looked rumbled and her knees were red, bright green eyes noticeably darting everywhere but the boys face as they scurried off again. If only they knew, Lydia thought. They'd laugh at how innocent the whole ordeal really was-especially when Lydia Martin was involved.

But the pair was convinced otherwise. Somehow, the kiss was anything but innocent. It felt like some dirty secret that the two shared, never mentioning it, but always just _knowing_ it happened. Now, in his room, it was one of the moments where she tried to forget, and deny, and do anything to get her mind of these things. But right now it seemed to be to no avail. 

Lydia could feel his breath on her cheek as she struggled to keep her eyes forward, licking her lips slightly as her heartbeat quickened. Stiles however, was completely oblivious to how close he was. Maybe it was due to the fact that they were never really far apart these days, that he got used to being perched at her shoulder or glued to her side. Lydia was becoming painfully aware of this act and she struggled not to show it.

"Maybe it's not just one.. Maybe it's a pack." The boy suddenly rested one hand on her lower back and leant forward to shuffle the papers on the desk in front of them. Again, Stiles took no notice to Lydia stiffening at the small gesture to keep her close. She nodded and furrowed her brows, screwing up her face to look concentrated when really, all she could focus on were his fingers rubbing small patterns on her back, the barely noticeable tug to draw her closer into his side.

"Maybe it's neither." Lydia responded, her voice masking her initial train of thought. "When was the last time werewolves dumped their victims in the water?"

"What if they're like.. Were-crocodiles or something." Stiles suggested, not entirely serious, but not off board with the idea either.  Lydia turned her head to look at him, their noses just a couple of inches apart. She mustered up her best 'what-the-hell-Stiles' squint before quickly avoided his gaze once more and pointed to a certain page. "It could be a nymph."

"Or a mermaid."

"Stiles, I'm being serious."

"So am I!" He retorted, withdrawing his hand from her back much to Lydia's displeasure. "Luring men to their deaths by the river, claw marks on their necks-I don't know about you, but mermaids can be pretty nasty in some adaptations." He raised an eyebrow at her, staring her down as he shifted beside her.

Lydia disregarded the fluttery feeling in her stomach and rolled her eyes while explaining, "Mermaids live in oceans. Nymphs live in rivers." Now it was Stiles' turn to roll his eyes, turning towards the files and muttering. "You're just protecting your sisters, _Ariel_."

The words were playful and she swore she saw a small smirk tug at the corner of his lips. Lydia felt a physical warmth shoot through her at the nick name, letting her red hair fall in waves to hide the small smile the graced her lips. The next couple of minutes were quiet again as they shuffled through more papers, until Lydia came to a conclusion. One that was quickly swept aside into the corner of her brain.

"We should ask Deato-" as she turned, the girl froze, nose just a millimetre away from Stiles'. She couldn't ignore it now, her cheeks heating up and lids blinking rapidly. Stiles' own whiskey coloured irises were wide at the close proximity and his lips parted slightly as if to say something but deciding against it. Neither of them pulled back. Or pushed forward. In fact they didn't know how long they sat like this.

Lydia's mind reeled, and stopped, before revving back up again. She could see the slightest hint of freckles dusting across his nose which she never noticed before, they were barely visible in contrast to the moles dusting across his cheeks along his neck. Suddenly she found herself wanting to kiss everyone of those moles, until not one was left untouched by her lips.  Lydia sharply inhaled at her own thoughts and made to break away from the trained gaze. Stiles seemed to sense the twitch of movement from her, because suddenly he was pulling her back.

She didn't have time to process what was happening as large hands cupped her cheeks, holding her in place as lips were thrust upon hers.  A sense of déjà vu came crashing over her, hands holding a face, a frantic yet still somehow passionate kiss exchanged-only this time their roles were reversed, and there was no excuse.

Lydia eyes barely slid closed before they flung open again, hands and lips gone as fast as they came. Stiles stood nose to nose with her, eyes practically bulging out of his head and stuttering over lost words. She wanted to save him the trouble, to kiss him again to stop his babbling, but she was frozen in place.

"I, uh-I mean.. I'm sorry, oh my god-" Stiles pulled away so quickly that he tripped backwards over the chair, catching himself and straightening before his eyes met hers again. She continued to stand with her hands raised at her side, eyes unblinking and pink lips still slightly puckered. Her mind was an abyss, any original thought disappearing into a black hole, her words sucked away. Lydia didn't know what to think, what to say. 

On the contrary, Stiles seemed to be thinking too much and trying to spit out everything at once. After what felt like hours, though it was maybe only thirty seconds, Stiles ran a hand threw his hair and avoided her gaze before uttering another stream of apologies. "I'm sorry, I don't-... I hope I didn't, y'know.. Make things awkward," _Real smooth Stilinski_. "I think I'm gonna go ahead and call Deaton."

Gangly limbs tore out of the room faster than she could stop him, calling out a feeble "Wait.! Stiles.." But he was already gone, hurried steps slapping on the wooden staircase.

Lydia swallowed, eyes trained on the doorway from where he escaped as fast as he could. Her raised hand that had been reaching out to him slowly lowered to her side, her mind once again reeling as if they black hole had spit everything back into her brain at once. What was she supposed to say to him? How was she supposed to face him? Half of her hoped he would brush it off, act as if nothing happened like the last shared kiss. All of her secretly wished he didn't. Looking down, her purple pastel coloured toenails curled against the carpet as she subconsciously ran her fingers through her hair, red locks falling over her shoulder. Pounding footsteps running up the stairs lifted her gaze and her heart skipped a beat, nerves flooding with anxiety as Stiles' figure filled the doorway.

All thoughts and worries about the kiss was pushed back into a corner of her mind when she noticed the grim expression on his face. "Scott called before I could dial Deaton. There's been another murder."

With that, another kiss was left in the wind, another secret kept in their chest. Another red string to tie around each other, to pull and stretch until one stumbled towards the other. Lydia realized it was Fates little game, making a bet to see who will lose their balance first.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I suck. But whatever. I still have like seven more stydia fic ideas. Or drabbles more so. So I'm hoping I get around to those (and improve on my writing..)
> 
> *whispers* stay strong fellow shippers. Its endgame.


End file.
